


Something Kind

by On_Every_Spectrum



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aromantic, Aromantic Asexual Character, Aromantic Asexual Natasha Romanov, Aromantic Character, Aromantic Natasha Romanov, Asexual, Asexual Character, Asexual Natasha Romanov, BDSM, Bucky and Natahsa are in a QPR, Caring Dom, Dom Natasha Romanov, Dom/sub, Domme Natasha Romanov, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, F/M, Femdom, Gay Bucky Barnes, Gay Character, Gentle D/S, Gentle Dom, Gentle Domme, Gentle femdom, Kink, Kink Negotiation, Kinky Author, Non-Sexual, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Kink, Non-Sexual Submission, Obedience, One Shot, POV Bucky Barnes, Platonic BDSM, Platonic D/s, Platonic Relationships, Praise Kink, Queer Bucky Barnes, Queer Character, Queer author, Queerplatonic Relationships, Safe Sane and Consensual, Service Submission, Sub Bucky Barnes, aroace, asexual author, caring domme, gay author, platonic kink, qpr, queer platonic relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-10 00:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18927712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/On_Every_Spectrum/pseuds/On_Every_Spectrum
Summary: "Just kink or...?" He trailed off, not certain what else there might be. "If you like." Natasha replied. "Or a queer platonic relationship." And, that was a term he'd need to look up. "I care about you James."





	Something Kind

Natasha had started it.  
  
"Sometimes, you miss being told what to do?" She let a hint of question into the words, enough not to sound definitive. But, Bucky knew it was a statement never the less.  
  
Still, he reacted with shock and surprise. "No. Of course not. You don't think...?" He stammered awkwardly.  
  
Natasha cut him off mercifully. Her lips quirking only slightly. She expected him to respond like that. Yet, her eyes were kind. "No. Of course not." She reassured. "I don't think you miss the torture or the killing."  
  
"I know." She reminded him. Tone still soft and almost sweet. But, he knew full well what she meant.  They were two of a kind. Both weapons. It wasn't the kind of connection you wanted to share with anyone. Still, he was grateful he wasn't alone. He imagined she was too.  
  
"But, you miss the structure. Miss the orders and the rules. There can be a simple pleasure to not having to make decisions. To letting yourself just float." She observed, and this time there wasn't even a pretense of question in her words. It just was.  
  
Bucky didn't deny it.  
  
"Nobody ever told you how good you were. Did they?" She asked. Watching him, cataloging all of his little reactions. Bucky resisted the urge to look away.  
  
"I wasn't good." He scoffed, suddenly angry. "I was..." a monster, but Natasha cut him off before he could say it.  
  
"You were poorly used." She remarked. "It was unfair." And, that was an understatement. But, it was okay. He knew Natasha didn't mean to diminish anything.  
  
"You'd enjoy being good?" And, this time she actually asked, even though she still seemed to have a concept of his answer. "Being good for someone who wouldn't misuse you." She waited, patiently, for his answer. Not seeming in any kind of a rush. Just observing.  
  
Yet, she waited. It was clear she wouldn't continue without a response. So, Bucky forced himself to nod. Bashful and awkward. Not wanting to admit it. "Yeah." He mumbled quietly, imagining she might wait until she received a verbal response.  
  
He expected something more from her. He didn't know what. But, he'd expected that to turn into something. He supposed in a way it did.  
  
"I used to long to take control." She'd shared, letting the words rest for only a moment before turning and walking away. Leaving Bucky behind wondering what on earth he was supposed to make of that.

* * *

  
Bucky half expected their relationship to change, to shift in some way. Expected it to be complicated, to mirror the complexity of his own feelings.  
  
It didn't. Everything stayed the same. They were colleagues. Acquaintances. Friends, for a given definition of the word. A definition that meant closer than anyone else in his life right now except for Steve.  
  
They spent evenings together sometimes. In the common room. Natasha knit or read. But, Bucky just sat. Let his mind drift. Tried to keep it from drifting places he'd rather it didn't.  
  
"Do you still want it?" He asked suddenly, on one such evening. The words coming unbidden. He'd just been thinking.  
  
Natasha lowered her knitting project, looked over at him with a quirked eyebrow, inquiring. Her eyes sparkled as if she knew what he was going to ask, but fully planned on making him say it anyways.  
  
"Control." He managed. Feeling awkward and illfooted "Do you still want control?"  
  
Natasha smiled. "Only that which is freely given." She remarked. Resuming knitting. Her needles clicking rapidly against each other. Yet, her gaze remained on him. It was eerie to watch. Bucky's ma had been more than adept with a couple of needles and a skein of yarn, but she couldn't do that. He looked away.  
  
Freely given. He let the words tumble in his head for a moment. It made sense. He knew Natasha wouldn't force it. Not without reason. Not just for her ... pleasure? Was it pleasure? He didn't know.  
  
He knew there were people who were into that. Power exchange. Of course he knew. He'd known fellas who were into it even before the war. Never saw anything wrong with it. Might have had a few fantasies of his own of course. But, not... He couldn't imagine...  
  
"We're friends." He blurted out. Forcing himself not to take the words back as soon as he'd said them. They were friends. Weren't they? This was friendship. Well, not this exactly. But, them. The two of them. Quiet evenings side by side. That was friendship.  
  
"We are." Natasha agreed. And, Bucky pretended he didn't want to sigh with relief at that. At least even if this awkward conversation produced nothing else, he had confirmation that Natasha thought of them as friends.   
  
"I..." He started, then cut himself off. "No offense of course, you're a lovely dame." He hedged. Natasha smirked. "I don't really wanna be knocking boots with ya." He finished finally, full Brooklyn accent coming through.  
  
"I see." Natasha said simply. And, Bucky found himself getting a bit annoyed. Was that really all she was gonna say? But, as soon as he'd thought that, she continued. "I'm asexual." Plain as that. "And, aromantic." Almost an afterthought.  
  
Bucky was glad for the research he'd done. There was a time not long ago he wouldn't have had the first idea what those words meant. "I'm gay." He returned, surprising himself. It was the first time he'd said it aloud. He'd been with fellas before of course, and certainly said he liked them. But, gay wasn't exactly the standard term back then. And, he'd definitely never said anything like that to a lady before.  
  
"I know." Natasha said with a warm smile. Then, looked back down at her knitting. And, he shouldn't be surprised she knew. She was the best damn spy he'd ever encountered. And, he'd seen more than his fair share of spies over the decades. But, once more his head was screaming is that all she's gonna say?  
  
"So, what...?" He started, uncertain how to finish the question. Not really knowing what he wanted to ask. Luckily, this time Natasha took pity on him.  
  
"I don't want to date you, James." She spoke primly. "And, I'm certainly not suggesting sex." The way she said the word suggested something distasteful. But, he didn't get the impression it was a condemnation. Just a personal feeling.   
  
"If you wanted" and she stressed that. Made it clear that it truly was optional. "We could try out power exchange." She finished the sentence. "I think we'd fit well together." And, Bucky found himself blushing for no good reason. That felt kind. He wasn't used to kindness.  
  
"Just kink or...?" He trailed off, not certain what else there might be. "If you like." Natasha replied. "Or a queer platonic relationship." And, that was a term he'd need to look up. "I care about you James."  
  
Yeah. Definitely blushing. Damn it. Still, he trusted Natasha. So, he didn't mind too much. "I care about ya too." He mumbled, shaking his hair into his face to hide his cheeks.  
  
"I might like that." He admitted. Natasha set down her needles all together. Looked right at him and met his eyes. "Do your research, James. Then, tell me what you want. And, what you think you might need."   
  
Her words weren't quite an order, but they certainly weren't a suggestion either. An instruction maybe? That sounded right. Bucky shivered.

* * *

  
Bucky did his research. Took his time. Spent a long while just reflecting. What did he want? It wasn't a question he'd been asked very often. What he needed was even harder to answer.  
  
He needed to be safe. To not be hurt and not to hurt anybody. The latter would be easy to ask. He trusted Natasha. Knew she wouldn't ever expect that of him. The former would be harder. He knew that pain was part of this. Spankings and hair pulling and all kinds of implements.   
  
He'd read about so much pain. And, he wasn't judging. He could even vaguely remember a time when his own fantasies had featured a couple of things like that. Not any more. He didn't want to be hurt. He needed a promise that he wouldn't be.  
  
He wanted orders. Wanted to be told what to do. Wanted to obey. He could imagine it already. No decisions, no stress. Just simple obedience. Just focus on each order as it comes. No chance for his mind to run off and mess him up.  
  
He wanted to be good. Liked the concept of his obedience being used for good. Wanted to make people happy. He'd spent so long hurting them. He could imagine making Natasha happy. Making her feel good. Making her proud. He swallowed. He wanted that.  
  
He waited three weeks before bringing it up with her. Took his time. Did his reading. Reflected.   
  
This time he asked to meet. Didn't want to have that particular conversation in the common room. Natasha invited him to her quarters. Then, asked if he'd be more comfortable at his. He didn't have a preference.  
  
She made tea. And, served little Russian sweets like he was never allowed to have before. They still tasted like home. It was an odd feeling. He wondered if she'd made them herself. He liked the thought of her cooking.  
  
"You wanted to talk?" Natasha reminded, tone inquiring but not impatient. He took another sip of tea. Gathered his words.  
  
"I want this." He managed first, then continued before she could ask. "Power exchange. And, a QPR, if you want that too?" It was hard to imagine what she saw in him. Hard to imagine anyone cared for him. "I trust you, Natasha. And, you're important to me. I think we'd fit well together too."  
  
Natasha smiled, soft and sweet and warm. And, he wondered how anyone thought her emotionless. Then, he remembered that she made a practice of hiding them. And, felt lucky and honored that she didn't hide them from him. "I'm glad." She spoke simply, and for once he didn't need her to say anything more.  
  
They talked for hours. Went over everything Bucky had figured out. His wants and his needs. His boundaries. He liked that word. He was allowed boundaries. And, that felt warm and safe all by itself.  
  
Natasha made another pot of tea when they emptied the first. They talked about her as well. What she wanted. What her needs and limits were. Everything. Bucky wished he had words for how much that trust meant. But, he didn't. So, he just listened. Open and attentive, and by the time she finished speaking he already suspected that was better than anything he might have said.  
  
Natasha made it clear that nothing was set in stone. That things could change. That he was allowed to change. That these conversations should always be ongoing. He was thankful for that. Thankful that she said it explicitly.  
  
"Would you like a safeword?" She asked. He'd read about those. Understood why they were used. And, yet... "I'd like it best if we just stop if I say no." He shared. Natasha nodded. "That's all right. I always will." She promised.  
  
They talked late into the evening, but eventually they finished their third small pot of tea and said everything they had to say just then. "Good night." Natasha said sweetly. Then, asked if she might kiss him. He nodded his agreement, and she leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.  
  
"Good night." He told her in return. "Sleep well."

* * *

  
It was better than Bucky had imagined.  
  
He tested the bath water with his flesh hand. Made certain it wasn't too hot or too cold. Natasha came up behind him. Put one hand on his hip while the other dipped into the tub. "Feels perfect."  
  
She pulled away. "Just like you are, darling." Her eyes sparkled as he blushed, but he didn't argue. He was hers. If she said he was perfect, that was true.  
  
"Come here, sweet boy. Undress me." She ordered, and he did as she bade. Hands swiftly undoing her zipper. Pulling the light sundress over her head.  
  
She let him tend to her. Didn't try to help except as it was needed. Content to simply raise her arms or lift her hair off her neck as necessary. She let him put his hands on her. Didn't ever flinch at his metal arm. She trusted him.  
  
He laid the dress aside to be hung up again later. Put her accessories away. While he was turned, Natasha slipped into the bath. "Perfect." She reiterated. "You're so good for me, darling boy." She smiled at him and he blushed again.  
  
"Kneel." she instructed, already aware that be needed another order. That he needed direction. He sunk down onto the plush bathmat placed there for that very purpose. "Wait." Natasha directed. And, it was as easy as that. He simply waited, his mind at rest, while she enjoyed her bath.  
  
They did this often. Not just baths. Bucky had learned to paint her nails, to give massages, to fix tea just the way she liked it. Countless little ways to take care of her. To serve her. Natasha deserved care. And, he was eager to serve.  
  
She guided him through everything. Gave perfect clear directions. Taught him to do the tasks that had been unfamiliar. He was hers. And, she used him deftly.  
  
He knew that she loved the control as much as he loved submitting. It felt good to be used. To simply focus on obeying. To be free of decisions. Natasha was the opposite. She craved decisions. Wanted to be trusted. Wanted to use her power in a way people had never handled their power over her. Wanted to make him feel safe and loved and secure. He didn't want that himself, but he could understand.  
  
She always lavished him with praise. Called him her good boy. Sweetheart. Darling. Told him how perfect he was. How well he did. He loved it. She did too. He loved being good for her.  
  
"I'm ready to get out." Natasha called lightly, interrupting his thoughts. "Stand and fetch a towel for me." He obeyed. His legs sore with disuse. He enjoyed the soreness in a way he knew he wouldn't ever enjoy real pain. He held a towel out for her. Natasha took it and dried off quickly.  
  
That evening he braided her damp hair and painted her nails. Then, knelt on a cushion in the corner of the kitchen while she made souffle to share with him. As it turned out, Natasha was an excellent cook.  
  
It was so much better than he'd imagined.

 

* * *

  
Bucky treasured their relationship too.   
  
They still spent quiet evenings together, filled with only minimal conversation. But, both appreciative of one another's company.  
  
They went on dates together as well. Out for dinner. Long walks in Central Park holding hands.   
  
Natasha took him to the ballet. He was enraptured. Watching how the dancers used their bodies. So strong and precise, focused in the way he once was, and yet beautiful.   
  
He wasn't surprised when Natasha signed him up for private ballet lessons. She knew him well. "You'll be able to entertain me. My own private dancer." She said with a sweet smile and a soft kiss on the cheek. Bucky valued the permission. He went to the dance lessons.  
  
The first time Bucky had a panic attack in front of her, he was terrified. She'd never trust him again. Not once she knew he lost control like this. He ought to have told her. He was dangerous.   
  
Natasha knelt in front of him. "May I?" She asked quietly, stretching her arms out and forward. It took him a moment to realize what she was asking. He managed to get out a yes.  
  
She wrapped lithe limbs around him firmly. Her smaller body pressed snugly against his. Holding him tight. She held him all night.  
  
When she woke up with a night terror, she called him. It was 3:20 am. He came downstairs, to her floor. Made her tea. They sat up until sunrise. When Natasha finally did go back to bed, he sat watch.  
  
They had a good relationship. They took care of one another. Enjoyed spending time together. Bucky wasn't in love with her. But, he did love her.  
  
Natasha was quickly coming to occupy a place in his heart right next to Steve. A place reserved for the people he loved most.  
  
She finished her knitting project. It was a thick heavy blanket made with quality wool, designed to keep out even the most significant of chills. She gifted it to him.  
  
Well made as it might be, the blanket wasn't able to warm the cold inside of him. Even the hottest summer day couldn't do that. But, when Natasha snuggled up beneath the blanket with him, the cold lessened somewhat. And, that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> There are absolutely people who use kink as part of the process of moving on from trauma. That being said, Natasha and Bucky are both fictional characters and this is simply a story. If you're planning on exploring kink, please be careful. If you're recovering from trauma, take extra care with yourself. You're important.
> 
> And, for what it's worth, this story is based on my own experiences as a queer Dom on both the ace and aro spectrums who has experience navigating my own trauma and my partners' various traumas both in and out of kink contexts.


End file.
